chapter 27

, where the sage, angered by the reproaches which the _mustahīd_ has made to him for his bad conduct and irreligious poetry, gives vent to his sentiments of disgust in a number of poems (vol. ii. p. 137 seq.). Bodenstedt undoubtedly had in mind the persecutions to which H̱āfiḍ was subject, culminating in the refusal of the priests to give him regular burial and giving rise to the famous story of the _fatvā_.

The tavern and the praise of wine are, of course, bound to be prominent features. In the same _credo_ where Mirza Schaffy proclaims H̱āfiḍ as his teacher he also proclaims the tavern as his house of prayer (i. p. 96), and so he celebrates the day when he quit the mosque for the wine-house (i. p. 98; cf. H̱. 213. 4). The well known poem "Aus dem Feuerquell des Weines" (i. p. 106) is in sentiment exactly like a quatrain of ʻUmar Xayyām (Bodl. ed. Heron-Allen, Boston, 1898, No. 78; Whinfield, 195); the last verse is based on a couplet of Saʻdī (_Gul._ i. 4, last _qiṭʻah_, Platts, p. 18) which is cited immediately after the poem itself (i. p. 107).

A collection of Hafizian songs would scarcely be complete without a song in praise of Shīrāz. This we get in vol. ii. p. 48, where Shīrāz is compared to Tiflis; and just as the former was made famous through H̱āfiḍ, so the latter will become famous through Mirza Schaffy. Little did the worthy sage of Ganja dream that this would come literally true. Yet it did. The closing lines of the poem--

Berühmt ist Tiflis durch dein Lied Vom Kyros bis zum Rhein geworden--

are no empty boast; they simply express a fact.

None of Bodenstedt's later poetic publications ever attained the success of the Mirza Schaffy songs, and, it may be added, none of them equalled those songs in merit. In 1874 the author resolved once more to try the magic of that name and so he launched forth a collection called _Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffy's_, and to emphasize the Persian character of these poems the Persian translation of the title, از اشرار بازماندهً ميرزا شفيع, appeared on the title-page. In spite of all this, however, the Orientalism in these poems is more artificial than natural; it is not felt as something essential without which the poems could not exist. The praise of wine, which is the main theme of the second book,--for the collection is divided into seven books,--is certainly not characteristically Persian; European, and especially German poets have also been very liberal and very proficient in bibulous verse. The maxims that make up the third and a portion of the fourth book are for the most part either plainly unoriental, or else so perfectly general, and, we may add, so hopelessly commonplace, as to fit in anywhere. Some, however, are drawn from Persian sources. Thus from the _Gulistān_ we have in the third book, Nos. 8 (_Gul._ Pref. p. 7, last _qiṭʻah_), 9 (ibid. p. 6, first three couplets), 12 (ibid. iii. 27, _maθ_. p. 89) and 36 (saying of the king in _Gul._ i. 1, p. 13). No. 31 is from the introduction to the _Hitōpadēśa_ (third couplet).[210] "Die Cypresse," p. 103, is suggested by _Gul._ viii. 111 (K.S. 81).

The Oriental stories which form the contents of the fifth book are of small literary value. Some of them read like versified lessons in Eastern religion, as, for instance, "Der Sufi," p. 111, which is a rhymed exposition of a S̱ūfistic principle,[211] and "Der Wüstenheilige," which enunciates through the lips of Zoroaster himself his doctrine that good actions are worth more than ascetic practices.[212] On p. 121 Ibn Yamīn is credited with the story of the poet and the glow-worm, which is found in Saʻdī's _Būstān_ (ed. Platts and Rogers, Lond. 1891, p. 127; tr. Barbier de Meynard, Paris, 1880, p. 163). The famous story of Yūsuf and Zalīχā, as related by Jāmī and Firdausī, is the subject of the longest poem in the book and is told in a somewhat flippant manner, p. 135 seq. The stories told of Saʻdī's reception at court and his subsequent banishment through the calumny of the courtiers, pp. 123-128, seem to be pure invention; at least there is nothing, as far as we know, in the life or writings of the Persian poet that could have furnished the material for these poems.[213]

In 1882, still another collection of Bodenstedt's poems, entitled _Aus Morgenland und Abendland_, made its appearance. Like the _Nachlass_ it also has seven divisions, of which only the second, fourth and sixth are of interest for us as containing Oriental material.[214]

One poem, however, in the first book, "An eine Kerze," p. 5, should be mentioned as of genuinely Persian character. The candle as symbolical of the patient, self-sacrificing lover is a familiar feature of Persian belles-lettres (cf. H̱. 299. 4; 301. 5; or Rückert's "Die Kerze und die Flasche," see above, p. 43). The last line reminds us of a verse of Jurjānī, cited by Jāmī in the _Bahāristān_ (ed. Schlechta-Wssehrd, p. 111), exhorting the ruler to be like a flame, always pointing upwards.

The second book brings another contribution of sententious wisdom, most of which is neither new nor Oriental. Of Oriental sources the _Gulistān_ is best represented. From it are taken Nos. 8 (_Gul._ ii. 4, last couplet), 9 (ibid. i. 1), 41 (ibid. i. 21, prose-passage before the _maθ_. p. 33; K.S. p. 55), 43 (ibid. i. 17, coupl. 4, p. 29; K.S. p. 49), 52 (ibid. i. 29, coupl. 2; K.S. p. 66). No. 47, which is credited to Ibn Yamīn, is from the _Bahāristān_ (tr. K.S. p. 46; _Red._ p. 338). No. 49 is a very free rendering of a quatrain of ʻUmar Xayyām (Whinf. 347; _Red._ p. 81).[215]

The fourth book offers stories, all of which, except the first two, are from Persian sources. Thus from the _Gulistān_ are "Die Berichtigung" (_Gul._ i. 31; K.S., p. 67) and "Der Königsring" (_Gul._ iii. 27, last part, p. 92; K.S. p. 157). "Nachtigall und Falk" is from Niḍāmī, as was pointed out before (see above, p. 43). "Das Paradies der Gläubigen" is from Jāmī (_Red._ p. 324; given there as from the _Subẖat ul-abrār_) and "Ein Bild der Welt" is from Ibn Yamīn (_Red._ p. 236).[216] The longest story of the book is "Dara und Sara," which gives the legend of the discovery of wine by King Jamšīd, told by Mīrχvānd in his _Rauḍat u̱s-̱safā_.[217] Besides changing the name of the king to Dara, in order to make the poem more romantic, we find that Bodenstedt has made some decided alterations and has considerably amplified the legend. Thus in his version the motive of the lady's attempt at suicide is despised love, while in the original it is only a prosaic nervous headache. In both cases, however, the sequel is the same.

Finally, the sixth book offers very free paraphrases of poems by Rūmī, Saʻdī, Amīr Muʻizzī and Anvarī, who, oddly enough, are termed "Vorläufer des Mirza Schaffy." The source for most of these poems was evidently Hammer's _Geschichte der schönen Redekünste Persiens_. To realize with what freedom Bodenstedt has treated his models, it is only necessary to compare some of the poems from Rūmī with Hammer's versions, e.g. "Glaube und Unglaube" (_Red._ p. 175), "Der Mensch und die Welt" (ibid. p. 180), "Des Lebens Kreislauf" (ibid. p. 178), "Wach' auf" (ibid. p. 181). "Die Pilger," p. 188, attributed to Jāmī, is likewise from Rūmī (_Red._ p. 181; cf. Rückert, _Werke_, vol. v. p. 220). The poems from Saʻdī can mostly be traced to the _Gulistān_; they are so freely rendered that they have little in common with the originals except the thought. No. 1 is _Gul._ ii. 18, _qiṭʻah_ 1, to which the words of Luqmān are added; no. 2 is from _Gul._ iii. 10, couplet (p. 76; K.S. p. 129); no. 3 is _Gul._ iii. 27, _maθ_. (p. 89; K.S., p. 151); no. 4 is _Gul._ iii. 27, _qiṭʻah_ (p. 91; K.S., p. 154) and no. 5 is _Gul._ i. 39, _maθ_. The poem "Heimat und Fremde" is taken from Amīr Muʻizzī,[218] the court-poet of Malak Shāh, who in turn took it from Anvarī. It is cited in the _Haft Qulzum_ to illustrate a kind of poetic theft.[219] "Unterschied" is from Jāmī (_Red._ p. 315, given as from _Subẖat ul-abrār_), "Warum" from Ibn Yamīn (_Red._ p. 235); "Die Sterne" and "Die Zeit" are both from Anvarī (_Red._ pp. 98, 99).

* * * * *

So far, Bodenstedt had taken the material for his Oriental poems from Persia, but now he turned to India and in 1887 appeared _Sakuntala_, a romantic epic in five cantos. In the main it follows the story of Kālidāsa's famous drama, but the version in the _Mahābharāta_ is also used, and a considerable number of episodes are invented. Even where the account of the drama is followed, changes of a more or less sweeping nature are frequent. We cannot say that they strike us as so many improvements on Kālidāsa; they certainly often destroy or obliterate characteristic Indic features. Thus in the drama the failure of the king to recognize Śakuntalā is the result of a curse pronounced against the girl by the irascible saint Durvāsas, whom she has inadvertently failed to treat with due respect, and the ring is merely a means of breaking the spell. All this is highly characteristic of Hindu thought. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, remembering and forgetting are dependent on a magic quality inherent in the ring itself,--a trait that is at home in almost any literature.[220]

* * * * *

There are, besides, many minor changes. The _vidūṣaka_, or fun-making attendant of the king, is left out, and so the warriors express the sentiments that he utters at the beginning of Act 2. Duṣyanta does not bid farewell to his beloved in person, but leaves a letter. Again, after he has failed to recognize her, she returns to the hermitage of Kanva, whereas in the drama she is transported to that of Kaśyapa on the Hēmakūṭa mountain. So, of course, the aerial ride of the king in Indra's wagon is also done away with.

In many places, on the other hand, the poem follows the drama very closely. For instance, the passage in the first canto describing the mad elephant (pp. 14, 15)[221] is a paraphrase of the warning uttered by one of the holy men in Act 1. Sc. 4 (ed. Kale, p. 40). The discourse of Śakuntalā with her friends (pp. 37, 38), the incident of the bee and Priyamvadā's playful remark (pp. 38-40) are closely modelled after the fourth scene of Act 1. Many passages of the poem are in fact nothing but translations. Thus the words which the king on leaving, writes to Śakuntalā (p. 78):

Doch mein Herz wird stets zurückbewegt, Wie die wehende Fahne an der Stange, Die man vollem Wind entgegenträgt--

are a pretty close rendering of the final words of the king's soliloquy at the end of Act 1:

_gacchati puraḥ śarīraṃ dhāvati paścād asaṃstutaṃ cētaḥ cīnāṃśukam iva kētōḥ prativātam nīyamānasya_

"my body goes forward; the mind not agreeing with it flies backward like the silken streamer of a banner borne against the wind."

A large part of the whole poem is pure invention, designed to make the story more exciting by means of a greater variety of incident. Such invented episodes, for instance, are the gory battle-scenes that take up the first part of the fourth canto, the omen of the fishes in the fifth, and the episodes in which Bharata plays the chief rôle in that canto. Some of the things told of this boy, how he knocks down the gate-keeper who refuses to admit his mother, how he strikes the queen Vasumatī who had insulted her, and how he slays the assassin whom this jealous queen had sent against him, are truly remarkable in view of the fact that the hero of all these exploits cannot be more than six years of age (see pp. 112, 113). The account in the _Mahābhārata_, to be sure, tells of equally fabulous exploits performed by the youth, but there we move in an atmosphere of the marvelous. In Bodenstedt's poem, however, the supernatural has been almost completely banished, and we cannot help noticing the improbability of these deeds.

FOOTNOTES:

[204] Hebrew by Jos. Choczner, Breslau, 1868; Dutch by van Krieken, Amst. 1875; English by E. d'Esterre, Hamb. 1880; Italian by Giuseppe Rossi, 1884; Polish by Dzialoszye, Warsaw, 1888. See list in G. Schenk, Friedr. Bodenstedt, Ein Dichterleben in seinen Briefen, Berl. 1893, pp. 246-248.

[205] Aus dem Nachlasse Mirza Schaffys, Berl. 1874, pp. 191-223.

[206] In ZDMG. vol. xxiv. pp. 425-432.

[207] With few exceptions, pointed out by Bodenstedt himself, e.g. "Mullah rein ist der Wein" is from the Tartaric. Nachlass, p. 208.

[208] Friedr. Bodenstedts Gesammelte Schriften, Berlin, 1865, 12 vols. Vols. i and ii. All references to the Lieder des M.S. are to this edition.

[209] Nachlass, p. 193.

[210] Or else a saying of Muhammad exactly like it, cited by Prof. Brugsch in Aus dem Morgenlande, Lpz. Recl. Univ. Bibl. 3151-2, p. 57.

[211] Cf. Bodenstedt's remarks on S̱ūfism in Nachtrag, p. 198 seq.

[212] See my article on Religion of Ancient Persia in Progress, vol. iii. No. 5, p. 290.

[213] A complete history of Saʻdī's life, drawn from his own writings as well as other sources, is given by W. Bacher, Saʻdī's Aphorismen und Sinngedichte, Strassb. 1879. On the relation of the poet to the rulers of his time, see esp. p. xxxv seq.

[214] We cite from the third edition, 1887.

[215] Translated more closely by Bodenstedt in Die Lieder und Sprüche des Omar Chajjâm, Breslau, 1881, p. 29.

[216] Schlechta-Wssehrd, Ibn Jemins Bruchstücke. Wien, 1852, pp. 138, 139.

[217] Tr. David Shea, Hist. of the Early Kings of Persia, Lond. 1832, pp. 102-104; Malcolm. i. p. 10, note b.

[218] Ethé in Grdr. iran. Phil. ii. p. 260; Pizzi, Storia, vol. i. pp. 88, 215.

[219] Rückert, Gram. Poet. u. Rhet. der Perser, p. 363.

[220] Cf. the story of Charlemagne and the magic stone given to him by a grateful serpent. Grimm, Deutsche Sagen, 1. 130.

[221] We cite from an edition publ. at Leipzig, no date.

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